


Sick

by MCS1955



Category: Major Crimes (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6327151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCS1955/pseuds/MCS1955
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rusty gets sick, reminding Sharon how much he still needs her.  One-shot, but may turn into a series of one-shots, if enough interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick

Set the day after the Season 4 finale.

Sharon sat at the bar in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee. Since the squad had worked so much overtime with the recent case, everyone had the day off. She hadn't seen much of Andy outside of work, or of Rusty at all, in the last few weeks, but that would be remedied soon. Rusty was on Spring Break, and had agreed to spend the day with her, and she and Andy were going out for dinner the next night. Sharon was pulled from her thoughts when she heard Rusty coming down the hall. She got up to rinse her breakfast dishes and put them in the dishwasher. 

"Mo-om..." Uh-oh. She knew that tone. The last time she heard it, he was still calling her 'Sharon,' but the message was the same. Her baby boy was sick. Rusty appeared in the kitchen. "I don't feel good," he muttered, sounding congested. Sharon suppressed a smile. He had grown up and matured so much in the last couple of years, but when he was sick, he was still a big baby. She didn't mind it at all, especially since he tried to hide it from her the first time he was sick. She hated to see him not feeling well, but she did enjoy taking care of him.

"Oh, come here, honey," Sharon said, drying her hands on a dishtowel. Rusty shuffled over to her. She put an arm around him and held her hand to his forehead, sighing in sympathy when she felt a little fever. She pulled him closer to her and kissed his temple. "Go back to bed. I'll be right there with some medicine." Rusty nodded, but then his eyes grew wide. "Gus..."

"Don't worry. I'll take him to work when he gets here."

"Thanks...But please don't tell him I'm on Spring Break. I don't want him to feel guilty about me taking him to work this week when I'm not going to school."

"I won't." Sharon didn't approve of lying, but she understood in this instance. Rusty disappeared down the hall, and Sharon rooted through the medicine cabinet for the thermometer, Tylenol, and cold medicine. She poured a glass of juice and went back to Rusty's room. 

Sharon sat on Rusty's bed and held the thermometer under his tongue, brushing his bangs back from his forehead while she waited for it to beep. "99.5. What hurts?" She asked, tenderly running her hand over his cheek.

"Head...Throat...Nose feels gross."

"Sounds like it," Sharon said, smiling at him. She placed two Tylenol and a tablet of cold medicine in his palm, and handed him his juice. "Want some waffles?" Waffles were a sick-day, and occasional Saturday, treat. Rusty nodded vigorously.

"And some eggs?" He asked, hopefully. 

"Sure, honey." Waffles and eggs sounded disgusting together, but who was she to question a teenaged boy's appetite? That thought only saddened her, as it made her realize that he would be turning twenty in a couple of months. 'Twenty' sounded so old.

After Rusty had eaten breakfast, he was ready to go back to sleep. Sharon sat beside him, scratching his back. It was how she had gotten him to accept her mothering the first time he was sick, and she had been doing it to soothe him to sleep any time he wasn't feeling well, or was just having trouble sleeping, since then.

"I'm a little old for this, Sharon, you don't have to sit with me." He didn't mean it, and Sharon knew it. She decided to call his bluff.

"Oh, okay," she said, giving his back a final pat and standing up. "Text me if you need me."

"But...I mean, like, if you want to...It won't bother me," Rusty said, hastily. Sharon smiled, and resumed her position on his bed. Did she know this kid, or what? Rusty had just fallen deeply asleep when Sharon heard Gus knocking on the door. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, then got up to go answer the door.

"Hi, Gus," Sharon said warmly, pulling him into a hug. "Rusty's sick and he's not going to class today, so I'll drive you to work."

"Wait, I'll just take a cab. Rusty said you're off today."

"It's not a problem, I promise. I need to buy some groceries, anyway. Rusty is surprisingly picky when he's sick."

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine. He's not that sick. I would let you say hello, but he just fell back asleep."

"Okay. I'll text him later."

Sharon returned a little over an hour later and dug through the grocery bags for the ingredients for clam chowder. Rusty loved it, and it was rainy and dreary outside, so Sharon was in the mood for soup, herself. Once the soup was cooking on the stove, she peeked in Rusty's room. He was still sleeping, and was snoring lightly. Thankfully, he only did that when he had a cold. She got a clean set of sheets from the hall closet and made up the couch and placed a couple of blankets on the back of the couch. Rusty would probably want to come watch TV when he woke up. She sat at her desk to start on the mountain of paperwork from the case they had just finished. Although she technically had the day off, she wanted to get through some of it before returning to work. 

Rusty padded into the living room a little before noon and lay down on the couch. He turned the TV on and started flipping through the channels. Sharon got up and sat on the edge of the couch.

"Hi, honey, how are you feeling?" 

"Mmmph."

"That's helpful." Sharon felt his forehead. "Oh, your fever went up a little."

"Do I have to go to the doctor?" Rusty whined.

"I don't think so...Your temperature doesn't feel too high. I'm taking you if you don't start feeling better in a couple of days, though. But tell me if you start feeling bad enough to want to go."

"'Kay...Do I smell clam chowder?"

"Yes. It should be done now, are you ready for a bowl?"

Rusty nodded. "And a grilled cheese?" Rusty loved Sharon's grilled cheeses. Or anything she made for him, really. He was a good cook, probably better than Sharon, but, for some reason, Sharon's sandwiches, of any kind, always tasted better than those he made for himself.

"What good is clam chowder without a grilled cheese?" Sharon asked, in mock surprise.

"The eternal question."

After lunch, Rusty spent the majority of the afternoon alternating between watching TV and napping. Sharon alternated between working at her desk and doting on him. They watched a movie together after dinner from Rusty's favorite burger place, and by 10:00, Rusty's eyes were starting to droop. 

"Let's get you in bed," Sharon said softly. She gave him some Tylenol PM and a glass of Gatorade, refilled the glass, and followed him down the hall to his room. She set the glass of Gatorade on his nightstand. Once Rusty was in bed, Sharon tucked him in and rested her hand against his forehead. "Your fever seems to be going back down, but wake me if you start feeling worse tonight, or if you need anything." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I hope you're feeling better in the morning." Rusty nodded, and rolled over on his side. "I love you, honey." "You, too, Mom. Thanks for taking care of me." "You're welcome, baby." Sharon sat with Rusty and scratched his back, as she had done several times in the last three years, until he fell asleep.


End file.
